Errands
by Mikazuki Mitsukai
Summary: Yoshimori and Sen were grocery (sweets) shopping when an unexpected individual saw them together. And thought of THINGS. Unbetaed, unedited. Here, we live dangerously.


**Will anyone read this?**

**I HAVE NO IDEA!**

**Will I write anyway?**

**YEAH AS LONG AS THE MUSE DEIGN TO ALLOW ME!**

**Cause, yeah. I want to read me some YoshixSen fics, but there's so little of them out here I'm forced to write some.**

**Disclaimer: I just remembered that this FFN and we need disclaimers here. Which is totally dumb. If we own the property, we won't be here making FAN FICTION, we'd be over there at Japan making fucking CANONS.**

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Chapter 1

"Hey, hey, Kagemiya. Look at this."

"EWW! That thing's disgusting, put it back!"

"But look at its _face_!"

"Get away from me! Don't you da-"

"Nyahahahaha!"

"YOSHIMORI!"

*Slap*

* * *

"Oww…"

Eighteen years old Sumimura Yoshimori cradled his reddening left cheek with a block of ice covered by a flimsy plastic bag, the only thing available to treat his poor poor abused face. He hoped there would be no visible bruise, and that there'd be minimal swelling. If the gods could have mercy on him, they would grant these small wishes. He'd been a very good boy lately. Did his homework, attended classes, and made a breakthrough with his newest dessert, and stuff. His week was quite satisfying bar this one miserable event.

"Hmph. Wuss." The culprit of Yoshimori's miserable event sniffed in disdain.

The glare he sent to the person beside him was effectively ignored like a piece of wrapper in a trash can. Kagemiya nonchalantly set his eyes on the grocery list in his hand. Scratch that: Yoshimori's stupid aniki's cravings list that aniki in his tyranny forced unto him and Kagemiya. What abuse of power.

"We have almost everything," Kagemiya mused. "except for the ice cream. The Chief's favorite shop is nearby, though, so there shouldn't by any problem. Oh, we need to pick up Shuji-san's package from the post office too. Let's do that first and get the ice cream last."

So troublesome.

"How come we're the ones stuck doing errands?" Yoshimori groaned. He could be using this time for more productive means. Such as practicing his icing technique. Or napping.

"Because," Kagemiya elbowed him with a _very pointy elbow_. "we're the only ones available and if you'd quit your yapping-"

"Says the half-ayaka-COUGH"

"We'd be done a lot faster, so get a move on."

Yoshimori rubbed his abused, broken, absolutely shattered rib as he obediently followed Kagemiya to the cashier, not wanting to be elbowed yet again.

* * *

"Ah-"

Yoshimori turned sharply at Kagemiya's surprised voice, instinct automatically trying to find the nearest danger. The nearest _threat_.

He let out a soft, relieved sigh when there was nothing malicious lurking anywhere. Just Kagemiya staring at a piece of string on his palm in dismay, hair falling in unruly curls around his face. Yoshimori always wondered why the other teen never allowed his hair to be cut, even though he hated it when people mistook him for a girl. Because the hair contributes _a lot_. And now that his hair tie died a gruesome, horrible death, Kagemiya looked even more like a girl.

The red coat and the fact that Kagemiya was almost a head shorter than Yoshimori did not help.

Kagemiya was apparently aware of this fact, evidenced by the annoyed pout Yoshimori glimpsed before a bag of groceries was forced into his face. A snicker earned Yoshi a low, warning growl which he expertly ignored. By the time Yoshimori adjusted the grocery bags in his arms to take a good look at Kagemiya, the other had managed to tame his hair into a more non-erratic arrangement.

And if Yoshimori stared a bit too long, walked a little bit clumsily, and almost walked into a parked car, well. No one could ever blame him.

* * *

Madoka prided herself as Yukimura Tokine's bestfriend. Thus, as a bestfriend, it was Madoka's responsibility to know almost everything regarding her best friend, one of which was the boys in her best friend's life. As such, it was a most grievous fault that it took Madoka more than ten minutes to recognize the boy, no, _young man_ that seemed painfully familiar on the other side of the road. The moment she figured out why the guy looked so familiar, Madoka pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers to stem the feeling of absolute idiocy and sheer incompetence because . . ?

That boy had had the crush the size of Jupiter on Tokine for centuries! The most present male in her best friend's life!

And she just forgot about him!

**But**.

To be fair, it's been a while and he's changed a lot.

Madoka took a good, long look at -most likely- 18 years old Sumimura Yoshimori and nodded to herself in approval. He'd put on some weight and height that his lanky 14 year old self lacked. He's not as tall as Tokine's preference. A few centimeters too short, perhaps, but that's fine. Tokine can compromise. Madoka could see subtle definition of muscles under his long sleeved shirt, so that's a HUGE plus oh wow Tokine's got _jackpot_.

And he looks cute.

Not mind-blowing, breath-takingly, ikemen handsome, but cute enough.

He also definitely grew into those big hands, judging by the sight of them on those heavy bags of groceries he's carrying.

Madoka was definitely thinking of innocent things that those hands could be capable of doing, totally, when a pair of new, unknown, smaller, paler hands interrupted Madoka's line of sight and relieved Yoshimori's hands of half their load.

Madoka's eyes trailed over the long fingers, over red sleeved arms cradling a small waist obvious even through a coat, up to light brown ringlets that could NOT be natural she refused to accept it, and into the face of a really pretty girl that screams DANGER because oh dear gods above Tokine has a _competition_.

_And I thought you're the loyal only once in a lifetime sort, Sumimura-kun_, Madoka thought bitterly (if not a bit enviously at the lucky chick).

This demands further investigation.

_to be continued_

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**If you people are out there... Please review so I know you fellow dead fandom lurkers exist!**


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